A Picture's Worth
by Summer Leigh Wind
Summary: A collection of Harry Potter stories - some connected, some not - written from the prompts of the "Art Club" in the "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments)" forum.
1. Like You

_**Like You**_

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******Pot Luck:**Your image prompt will be completely random, basically completely the opposite of the 'art' category. This will be the time for humor/fluff fics (unless you can make it something serious in which case bonus points will be awarded). Your optional prompt will be something random, and maybe even unrelated to the picture.

**Image: go to the forum, the link is there; putting it here in the story is much too difficult.**

**Prompt: liquorice wand**

**Characters: Pansy Parkinson, OC.**

_**... ... ... **_

Pansy Parkinson paused in her reading of the _Daily Prophet, _it was quiet. Much too quiet. Getting up from the sofa, the young woman put aside her paper and walked the small distance across her flat and called; "Freesia?" No little voice answered back. Pursing her lips, the young woman sighed and poked her head in her daughter's room.

Empty.

Stilling her thudding heart, she went and opened her bedroom door (hadn't Pansy locked it though?) and sighed at the sight she found. "Free!" She cried in exasperation. Cocoa eyes looked up from beneath her uncle's faded bowler hat; she had to smother back a smile. It was at times like these she appreciated the girl's dark eyes because her expression was much too like - well, Pansy didn't like to think about _him._

Her daughter brought the purse she'd been playing with to her mouth, hiding it. "Hi mummy," she mumbled.

Coming forward, Pansy knelt in front of her little daughter and asked; "So you wanted to look like mum, did you?"

"Yeah!" She agreed with a wide grin. "Just like you!"

Humming, the young woman looked to her upper cabinet. "Well...how about a little lipstick?"

Freesia's mouth opened wide, delight evident. "Really mummy?"

"Yes," Pansy replied. "Now I have apricot and red, which one?"

Her daughter tossed her head to the side and propped her hand beneath her chin like she was thinking hard. "Um..." she snapped her head straight again, the pearls around her neck clanking with the sudden motion. "I want apricot! It's the color you wear when you go to work!" Freesia told her mother.

Brushing back her curls, Pansy smiled. "That's right," she acknowledged. Getting up, she got the lipstick and brought it back; helping her daughter's untrained hand put it on her lips. Once done, she turned Freesia to the mirror attached to her door; "So what do you think love?"

Reaching out, her daughter grinned. "I look just like you do!" She happily exclaimed. Carefully turning around in her mother's high-heels, Freesia declared; "When I grow up mumma, I'm going to be just like you!"

The declaration was both heartwarming and crushing; Pansy adored her little Free and the worshipful way she looked at here everyday, but she also found herself burdened by it. Every mistake Pansy made she was sure Freesia must be tallying in her mind (because _she _was_), _so with this in mind, she brought her daughter close and said;

"Oh love, you don't want to be _just _like mummy..."

Pulling away, her daughter frowned at the young woman. "Why not? You're the _best_! You're the prettiest mommy, you have the best job, know how to make _perfect _mac 'n chees and you knit me a new sweater every year for Christmas!"

Pansy was not the _best_, she was not the prettiest mommy - she had bags under her eyes most days and if she looked hard enough, she could find the beginnings of crows feet and love handles, her job was bloody awful, working forty plus hours as a _secretary _for a muggle hospital is not what she'd envisioned for her life, she only knew how to make "perfect" macaroni and cheese because she'd lived off it for the first three years with her daughter and well, maybe Pansy was an alright mother for making her daughter a sweater every year. It was more than some of her co-workers could do given their limited time.

Thinking on it, she supposed she should thank Draco for that. Even if they weren't together, even if he wasn't the kind of father that whisked Freesia off for magical weekends or spent hours a week just talking to her on the phone; he _did _send a generous stipend to make sure his daughter had a nice place to live and he did make time to come around Freesia's birthday and deliver a personal gift. He wasn't a perfect father, but he had promised to be there when she (or Pansy) needed him. As of right now, Pansy had tried to keep the "needing him" part to a minimum.

He had enough problems as it was; Draco's family still faced scrutiny from the magical community six years later, despite Harry Potter's good word and the Malfoys were made to pay reparations despite it all. And on top of all that, the _Daily Prophet _was hinting at him getting ready to marry the younger Greengrass girl, Astoria. Pansy wasn't going to say she was happy about it, she still thought about what could have been a lot, but the young woman _was _glad that Draco was recovering enough from the war to find love with someone.

Here in the muggle world, she was able to hold a steady job with people who didn't know her, who didn't know what she did, and thought she was just a girl who'd gotten pregnant too young. The irony of her life was not lost on Pansy either, here she had been raised as the most pureblood of pureblood girls; trained to spit on muggles, muggleborns and halfbloods, hold her chin high and told that someday she would marry a perfectly lovely pureblood boy and she would have pureblood babies. But instead, she got pregnant during the war, her parents kicked her out of her home when Draco told her he couldn't marry her in good faith and then she had to runaway to the muggle world because no place was willing to give her a job in the magical world.

Her reputation was tarnished by just having been with Draco during her schooldays, on reflection, Pansy didn't think marrying him would have made it worse. If anything, her first few years would have been easier. And while she wanted to hold a grudge against Draco for it, the young woman still felt he had meant well and actually was kind of thankful that she'd been made to be independent. Her daughter was learning well from it. A woman didn't need a man; she could _want _one, but they weren't necessary to live a fulfilling life.

"Mummy?" Freesia whispered, wriggling in Pansy's hold. "How come you aren't talkin'?"

Shaking her head, the young woman smiled at her daughter. "I'm just thinking Free, I still say you shouldn't want to be _just _like mummy..." her daughter's face churned with turmoil, but before it could erupt, Pansy kissed her cheek. "You see my love, I want you to be _you_; not mum."

"Me?" Her daughter questioned, pointing her finger at herself.

Pansy nodded. "I want you to be Free, not Mum."

"I should be Freesia..."

Grinning, Pansy swept her daughter up into her arms and asked then; "So what does _Freesia _want for dinner?"

Her daughter scrunched her brows and hummed loudly. "Ummm..." with a sudden burst of light, she cried; "Free wants mac n' cheese and a licorice wand for desert!"

The young woman laughed. It was a good thing she made her daughter's favorite meal the best, wasn't it?

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**So, what do you think about what I had happened to Pansy Parkinson? Is it believable?**

**This story is thanks to the "Art Club" on ****Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments).**  


**Thank you all for reading and pretty please review!**


	2. What She Sees

_**What She Sees**_

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**Muggle** **Art:** **Your image prompt will be a traditional piece of artwork (don't worry, none will be abstract or expressionist). Your optional prompt will be the title of the piece and any more information given by the artist.**

**Image - 'Scenes From a Memory' by Dave McKean (link is in the forum topic)**

**Characters: Lily Potter**

_**... ... ...**_

It was a funny thing to look at people, Lily had found in her short eight years - and not always a pleasant thing, either. Looking at daddy could be especially difficult if she stared too long; it was much more pleasant to stare at Teddy or her brothers. They're faces didn't tell her scary stories like daddy's, or mummy's, or uncle Ron's or aunt Hermione's...most adults faces told scary stories.

Sometimes the scary stories were shorter, other times longer, but of all the adults she knew, Lily saw one thing in common. _The Battle. _Everyone of them she saw had a picture of it to go along with the rest of their story, even if it was just the aftermath; like in the case of Granny Andromeda. All she had was a muddy, red and green, smoking scene littered with dead people. What followed that picture was even worse than some of the battle pictures people had because it was an imagine of Teddy's mummy and daddy. And they were _dead_. The never ever, _ever _coming back kind of dead. It was like seeing Tootie their kitty in the road all over again after she got him by a silly muggle truck.

Lily can remember her daddy asking her once why she was always just glancing at people and only made eye contact with her brothers and other kids their age or close enough to it;

_"'cause it's not scary."_

She told him.

_"It gets less so the more you look, you know Lily."_

He had told her.

And for a time, she _had _tried. But she just ended up with nightmares that made her wet the bed and cause hushed arguments behind closed doors. So, she stopped trying and figured she wouldn't again until she was _absolutely _sure they wouldn't scare her anymore. Lily was beginning to think that day would never come. It never got easier to glance at daddy and see the face of the evil man they called _Voldemort _and it was sometimes even harder to look her mum in the eyes and not be drawn to the anguished face of grandma Molly just above her mum's left brow as grandma cradled dead uncle Fred.

But as scary as all those pictures were, it was nothing compared to looking at her own face.

Her's was _teeming _with swirls and ever-changing images. Like it couldn't decide what was important and what wasn't. Of the few that seemed to always be there, one was of the uncle Ron and aunt Hermione taking her to a muggle carnival when she was three or four and went on a ferris wheel; and the other was of Tootie's face. Her pretty yellow eyes half-shut and tongue hanging out as fur and skin stuck up behind her severed head.

Lily was beginning to think of the scary pictures as "blemishes" or "scars". They were there to stay and taint the good pictures to scare future little witches. Though, Lily was beginning to suspect that there likely wouldn't be future witches that would be scared by Tootie's head. Once, Lily had tried to ask James how he stayed not scared when seeing the picture of Voldemort or grandma crying. At first, he'd seemed confused and the more she had explained the more perplexed he became until he just shoved and told her to stop playing "pretend".

She was beginning to suspect she was alone in seeing what she saw.

Part of her worried about this, but the other enjoyed it. She got to know things no one else knew...but that was kind of lonely too. It wasn't like she could _talk _about what she saw with the person, they'd get scared and call her crazy. Maybe when she went to Hogwarts they'd start to call her "Loca Lily" like they used to call aunt Luna "Looney Luna".

And while this was a sad sort of thought, it was also kind of a relieving. It would mean she wouldn't have to look at too many people and see the scary things that had happened to them. Lily didn't like scary things. Even less than cold baths, socks with worn out heals and dead pets.

Sometimes Lily hated knowing she was alone in the things she saw; other times, though, she liked feeling special. But even if she liked feeling special, she really wanted to meet someone like herself and learn how to not be scared of the pictures she saw.

Lily didn't think she was ever going to find them. Not soon enough, anyway.

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**How to explain exactly...I used the picture more as a concept builder, I'd say? The picture itself is not ever used here, but the idea/concept of the picture is. And I know, it's a little confusing...but so is the picture (jk). Anyway, let me know what you think!**

**Thanks to reviewers, stonegenome1, KodeV, Nymphxdora, The Dark One Rising, CUtopia, and MissWitchx for the reviews! I appreciate it!**

**Thanks for reading and please review!**


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